


Mind Fuck

by sarkywoman



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Consent Issues, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-13
Updated: 2006-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarkywoman/pseuds/sarkywoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in 2006. Characters are approx. 17 years old. Consent issues result from mind control.  The X-Men have been captured by the Brotherhood and Bobby finds himself subject to a peculiar kind of interrogation technique.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Fuck

This was so far past weird that Bobby wouldn’t recognise weird if he saw it now. He barely recognised himself anymore. He couldn’t be that boy he’d known with high moral ground and strong ideals. He couldn’t be the boy who’d put up with the most serious case of blue balls because he was in love with a girl who couldn’t touch anything. That boy had more willpower than Bobby had.

He knew the others were being tortured like him. He heard their screams. Mystique was thorough, Sabretooth more so. And he didn’t like to think about what John did when he walked past Bobby and went to their cells, because the pained screaming became agonised screaming. Bobby didn’t know what John did to them, because he got different treatment. For some reason, he was special. He would say it was because they knew they could use John against him, except Mystique could be whoever they needed for the others. So for some unknown reason, Bobby was special. 

He heard the heavy boots thudding down the stairs and his heart started to beat in time with them. The sound of metal chains jingling against leather told him it was John. Magneto must have bought him those boots he’d been after, he’d been wearing them all week. 

Looking at the floor, Bobby saw the flame-patterned boots with metal toecaps stop outside his cell. He peeked up. John was staring at him, eyes slightly glazed. Yes, it was going to be one of those sessions. Bobby shifted uncomfortably. His arms were bound above his head and he’d been put in a standing position over an hour ago. The flamethrower pulled a cardkey out of his pocket and slid it through the scanner, then placed his hand on the panel. The transparent door slid open accordingly and shut after John had stepped in.

Bobby wondered if the others knew what was happening to him, or if they thought he just handled his torture in silence. John walked up to him and ran his hands over Bobby’s bare chest. The shirt had been lost a couple of days ago when John had burnt it off of him. With his powers suppressed, all Bobby had been able to do was wince as his skin had burned. They hadn’t been severe or plentiful burns, but they’d still hurt like hell.

John took one of Bobby’s nipples between his full lips, sucking and licking and running his teeth around it. Bobby gasped in breath and tried to turn himself off by thinking of whoever was controlling John to do this. It would probably be some withered old psychic man, getting his rocks off to psychic porn. Maybe they filmed it for Magneto.

Bobby groaned as John took his other nipple in hand. But he persevered in his unsexy thoughts. John wouldn’t force himself on Bobby if Bobby didn’t respond, for some reason they never did that. Maybe they had too much respect for John to… no. They were already violating him by using him like this, there were clearly no boundaries for them, no lines that could not be crossed. If only Bobby knew why.

The pyromaniac knelt down before him, his tongue leaving a wet line on Bobby’s stomach as he licked his way down. Bobby’s trousers were fastened, John always tidied him up before he left. Not for the first time, Bobby wondered if John remembered this when he was left to himself. If he scrubbed his skin raw in the shower to get Bobby off of his skin. If he hated Bobby for being so sick that he couldn’t stop his perverse body enjoying this.

When John took Bobby’s hardening member into his gifted mouth, Bobby bit his lip so as not to cry out. They never made any noise in these sessions. He didn’t want anyone to know firstly, and there was a second sicker notion in his head that making a sound might snap John out of his trance, then those perfect lips would stop sliding over his cock. And while he sort of wanted John to stop, he also really didn’t want the boy to ever leave.

He was panting for breath now, painfully ambivalent about his oncoming orgasm. Coming would be so good about now, but it would also be another failure. Not to mention John would leave and Bobby did enjoy looking at him so much. He looked down at the teen sucking his cock.

As always, that triggered his orgasm and he came into John’s mouth, who continued sucking until Bobby had stopped shuddering and coming. 

Bobby tried to calm his breaths and not cry as John zipped him up and kissed him on the cheek. Again, a tear escaped. It was that damn kiss that broke him every time.

He’d been alone in his cell trying to collect his thoughts for a few minutes when Mystique turned up to reposition him. He was shoved roughly into a horizontal position on the cold white floor and his binds were moved further down the wall so he wasn’t too stretched.

“He’s yours you know,” the blue woman said calmly as she arranged Bobby’s limbs. “You just have to sign the dotted line and join the revolution. You could have him everyday, we’d give him to you freely. Blowjobs are the least of what he can do,” the woman said with a suggestive leer.

Bobby didn’t respond and she sighed before departing. He never listened to anything that bitch had to say. They could give him John’s body, but they could never give him John. Not the way Bobby wanted him.

That was why he hadn’t even contemplated escape.


End file.
